


you fancy you're a rebel so let me hear you shout

by royalsampaguita



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Graphic Description of Injuries, Multi, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Slightly aged-up characters, david's band the nether regions were mentioned and might make an appearance later, flowery religious themed descriptions because catholics sure do love an aesthetic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalsampaguita/pseuds/royalsampaguita
Summary: He wondered what a sight it would be, him kneeling in front of Orla, one hand resting gently on the hem of her skirt, the other being held steadfast by James. Orla looked like an avenging angel, in his opinion, as the lights from the ceiling and from the early evening sun outside the door caught her hair and spanned out in a halo. Blood on her hands and the beginnings of a stain on her skirt where his hand was. The fierceness, the protectiveness, the passion in her eyes as she bent over to look at him. James genuflecting next to him one hand gripping his, the other running through his hair, subtly gripping at his curls. Both of them, on the ground in deference to this, this, this Otherworldly Being in front of them. Supplicants at the base of Heaven. Oh to be so close and not get burned…





	1. oh, what could it be, who did you wrong, what did you need?

**Author's Note:**

> This was expanded from a sort of oneshot with the possibility for something more from my [ tumblr](https://royalsampaguita.tumblr.com/tagged/jorlavid).

It was Friday late afternoon and Orla and James were waiting in his living room for David. They had early dinner reservations at a sort of fancy (but not so fancy that they were asking their parents or other guardians for money) before heading to the Nether Regions’ gig. David had told them he had a new song to debut and he wanted both of them to be there when he did. Orla, to pass the time, was lying upside down on the couch watching the dust particles float by in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the thin white curtains of the Mallon’s living room windows. James was flipping through last month’s copy of National Geographic, his phone playing some of the Nether Regions’ music low in the background.

James looked down at his watch as the song faded out, the playlist coming to an end. He had perfectly timed it so that by the time it ended, David would’ve already walked through the door at the beginning and James and Orla would put on their shoes and jackets and head out. “David isn’t usually late to our dates. Do you think he’s alright?” James asked hesitantly, breaking the silence. There wasn’t a bad feeling in his stomach, per se, but he wasn’t all too comfortable with David being late.

Orla blinked up at him, refocusing on his face. “Aye, he’s probably fine. Ooh, maybe he stopped by to get chocolate or spoons before coming here!” She said, a smile on her face as she leaned her head against his knee, a comforting pressure that he welcomed.

He blinked. “Spoons?”

“To melt, James.” Orla almost rolled her eyes at his question. “This wouldn’t be the first time he’s stopped in at Denny’s before meeting us with thoughtful gifts like that.” She hummed and closed her eyes with a smile.

“But Orla, he normally messages us if he’s going to be late. This isn’t like him; it’s been almost ten minutes now and he hasn’t messaged or anything.”

Orla’s eyes shot open with a gasp as she rolled off of the couch. “Ten minutes and no message?! Ach, James, why didn’t you say so? We should’ve been walking the streets of Derry looking for him by now.”

They scrambled to stand up properly, shoving their shoes on and throwing on their jackets, heading for the door. As James flung it open, he and Orla stopped dead in their tracks at the sight in front of them. David, half-curled into himself it seemed with one hand ready to open the door and the other covering his nose, was standing in front of them. He looked like he’d been tossed around in a particularly bad storm. Like the Great Storm that their parents will bring up sometimes whenever Erin or Michelle complain about the weather.

“David, oh my God,” was all James could get out as David stumbled inside and fell to his knees. He flicked on the foyer light.

Orla gently pulled David’s hand away from his face, not that he had any strength or will to resist her, and tilted his chin up so that the light allowed her and James to see the true extent of the damage. David’s nose had stopped bleeding sometime back on his walk it seemed and it appeared as if he had tried to wipe away most of the blood. There was a shallow cut under his eye and the lookings of a shiner beginning to form. His lip had been split open and some blood was trailing out of the side of his mouth. Orla carefully thumbed away the blood there, making sure to not disturb the cut on his lip any more than necessary.

David watched her nervously from his knees as her eyes flit from one injury to the next, her breathing gradually becoming more and more controlled. He felt James squeeze his hand, and when did his boyfriend even take it? How did he not notice that? His hand was warm and comforting and gave David a sense of, well, it wasn’t peace but it was something. It was silent in the foyer beside the sounds of David’s ragged breathing and James’ more accelerated, nervous ones. As Orla’s examination came to a stop, her hand rested on the curve of his jaw, and she looked dead on into his eyes, David felt his heart skip several beats out of nervousness? Fear? He wasn’t sure in that moment but it was not a positive emotion, that much he knew. He must be really out of it to not even be able to place how he’s feeling.

After a few more beats of silence, Orla asked him, “ _Who did this to you?_ ” Her voice was quiet but sounded like a guitar string strung too tight, tense and ready to snap at any moment. James and David could tell that she tried to keep her anger in check, tried to keep it from showing in her voice, but it bled through anyway.

He wondered what a sight it would be, him kneeling in front of Orla, one hand resting gently on the hem of her skirt, the other being held steadfast by James. Orla looked like an avenging angel, in his opinion, as the lights from the ceiling and from the early evening sun outside the door caught her hair and spanned out in a halo. Blood on her hands and the beginnings of a stain on her skirt where his hand was. The fierceness, the protectiveness, the passion in her eyes as she bent over to look at him. James genuflecting next to him one hand gripping his, the other running through his hair, subtly gripping at his curls. Both of them, on the ground in deference to this, this, this Otherworldly Being in front of them. Supplicants at the base of Heaven. Oh to be so close and not get burned…

“I don’t know, some fuckers who wanted to ‘teach me a lesson ‘bout bein’ a fag but fuckin’ a bird’. Didn’t go to my school as far ‘s I know.” David’s voice sounded rough, dry, even as he sardonically chuckled.

“Hey, let’s get you up, yeah? Auntie Deirdre has a first aid kit ‘round here somewhere. Orla, get him set up at the kitchen table and I’ll clean him up when I find it.” James directed, helping David to his feet. Orla nodded, slinging David’s arm over her shoulder and helping him to walk to said table. He fell heavily into the chair, wincing at the impact.

“Are you alright, Davy?” She asked, noticing how he started to curl into himself again.

“Aye, they just got some kicks in while I was on the ground. I’m alright.” He said, gratefully taking the cup of water she gave him.

When James came back, bright white and red box in hand, she whispered to him to check David’s abdomen. He nodded at her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and started puttering around him; Orla left to the living room. She picked up her phone and made a few calls. One was to his bandmates, as David could faintly hear her briefing them on what happened and how he wasn’t likely to be there tonight. The second he couldn’t make out as James started cleaning his wounds and the hydrogen peroxide stung like a motherfucker, which he let James know. James laughed in response, leaning in to kiss the tip of David’s nose before asking him to take off his shirt.

“When you were on the front steps before you came in, you looked sort of curled over? I just want to make sure it isn’t something that we have to take you in for.” James explained at David’s glare.

He glared at James for a second more before nodding and unzipping his jacket, which had miraculously made it through this ordeal with no rips or tears, and started in on unbuttoning his dark green dress shirt. When he had gotten it off, with some help from James, all that was left was his white tank top underneath, which James made quick work of. James blanched at the red marks all over David’s chest. James rummaged around in the kit and pulled out two ibuprofen. Handing them to David to take, James walked to the freezer and pulled out an ice pack and wrapped it in a tea towel. “These should help with swelling and we can ask Auntie Deirdre about what else we should do when she’s off her shift. I don’t think that you’re supposed to bind them though so we can’t do much about them.” He said, handing David the ice pack. “If you’d like, we can put a layer or two back on? To keep you warm?” At David’s nod, they worked together to get his tank top and jacket back on.

As James started to pack up the first aid kit and clean up the table around it, Orla walked back into the room.

“I’ve called your bandmates to explain the situation. I’ve also messaged the girls, and Dee, and asked them to bring over some of Fionnula’s and a pizza for you James,” she said, holding up a hand before James could even protest.

“Thank you,” he said as he passed her to throw away the biohazards, kissing her on the cheek like before. She smiled at him and after he’d left the room she advanced towards David. She stopped between his knees and just looked at him now that he was all cleaned up. He saw her face harden at the sight of bruising, just visible through the thin material of his shirt.

“Don’t worry,” she said, leaning in and whispering. “We’ll get those bastards who did this.” She kissed the side of his face, minding the bandages. As she pulled back she said, “I promise.” She smiled at him and then turned to go back to the living room, putting her phone to her ear and arguing with Erin about what to get from the chippy.

David’s heart skipped a beat, maybe several, out of fear and felt like he didn’t move again until the door opened with a bang, Michelle loudly saying, “What’s up motherfuckers!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [ x](https://phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess.tumblr.com/post/185789449896/whumpster-dumpster-character-a-tilting-character)! Title is taken from HUNNY’s [ “Hallways”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T80E4eajlqg). Thank you again to Georgia for letting me ramble, as always, in our messages :p
> 
> I’ve also created a Pinterest board for these three, unrelated to this fic, if you want to check it out [ here](https://www.pinterest.com/royalsampaguita/derry-girls/)!
> 
> I should let y'all know, Orla's gonna be a bit darker than what she's portrayed.


	2. every which way, i'll let you know if it turns out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David is starting to relive the fight and Orla gets a very important number from her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts off with David's recollection of getting injured. Along with minor descriptions of violence, some slurs are thrown around. If you don't wish to read it, just skip to after the italics. The main summary of the fight is David's walking along, guys appear behind him and start yelling things, David breaks into a run and trips and they catch up to him. David wakes up before the first hit.

_ David was walking alone down the street, earbuds in and plugged into his phone, listening to his playlist. He’d made it for James and Orla after a few weeks of them dating. It was full of songs that reminded him of them or had some meaning in their relationship. It was because of this he didn’t notice the small group coming out from the alley behind him. _

_ “Oi, faggot!” One guy called, his voice echoing around them. David didn’t stop walking altogether, but he slowed down just the slightest and tugged an earbud out. _

_ “Yeah fairyboy, we’re talkin’ ta you,” another called. “We’ve got some things ta say ta you.” His voice growled out. _

_ David glanced behind him, breath picking up, and he saw four guys there. While David didn’t think of himself as unfit, it was clear that these ones were used to fighting. He quickened his pace, sounds of footfalls behind him only spurred him on further. He could’ve made it, could’ve been in the clear but those damn cobblestones. He tripped and fell to the ground. The other guys caught up to him in his struggle to get up. _

_ “Right, time’s to teach you a lesson about being a fag but shagging a bird,” said the first guy that had started this whole thing. He grabbed David by the front of his jacket, pulling him up and shoving him towards two others who’d gone up behind him. They restrained him as their leader’s arm drew back for the swing. _

David woke with a gasp. He immediately doubled over and squeezed the pillow that Mrs. Mallon had given him to help if he needed to cough or breathe, really. He let out a few hacking coughs, miraculously not waking James up in the process. They were sitting on the couch of the Mallons’ living room, David propped up against the arm and James next to him. Mrs. Mallon had sent everyone not related to her home after she saw that it was near one in the morning. Orla was the most reluctant to go, literally having to be pushed out the door by Erin. She texted her boys until James relayed that David had fallen asleep and sent her a picture of them, David clutching a pillow to his chest, a striped afghan thrown over the both of them.

He got up, setting the pillow down in his spot. He needed to get some air or something, maybe a glass of water.  _ But first _ , he thought as he swept a hand through his sweaty hair,  _ I need to wash my face. _ Walking felt like a massive effort but in the end, he managed to make it to the kitchen and got something to drink. As he let the coolness flow down his throat, he wondered on what Orla had said to him before their friends had arrived. Why had such a simple phrase made him fill with fear? Of course, he’d heard the dozens of rumors swirling about her father. Some said he’d just up and left when he found out Sarah was pregnant, some said he died in the IRA. And David‘s personal favorite, the one he found the funniest of them all: Orla’s da was part of the Dunne mob. Moved away in the ’90s to America before everything went downhill for the family and came back in 2006 to pick-up where they left off.

But what if it was true? What if her father really was working the mob and that’s why she said that…that she’d get them? His train of thought was cut off by the feeling of pain in his ribs reappearing as he tried to cough softly. With a groan, he reached into the cabinet for more pain medicine and walked back to the couch where James was still sleeping.

Sitting down and bringing the pillow back to his chest, he closed his eyes with a small smile as James curled back into him, the blanket and his body making David feel warm and safe. He was asleep before he knew it.

  
  


* * *

“Right, everyone out! It is one in the morning and anyone who isn’t related to me needs to leave. You may be in university but you are not too old for your mothers to take the wooden spoon to you.” Deirdre Mallon’s voice cut through the din of the youth gathered in her living room.

Clare, who was leaning against James, vaguely drunk, shot up with her eyes wide in horror. Erin did much the same but grabbed Dee’s hand, yanking him from his conversation with David and Orla.

“We have to get home or Mammy’s going to kill us, Orla,” Erin said, looking at Orla.

“But I can’t just leave David,” Orla protested, grasping onto his hand even tighter.

“Orla, we don’t really have a choice. It’s either get the spoon by Mammy or get the spoon by Mallon. I don’t know about you but I’d rather face Mammy than Mrs. Mallon.” Erin got up from the floor, dragging Dee with her, and started pulling on Orla’s free hand.

“You’re alright to go, Orls. I’ve got James with me. And we’ll see you later today also. It’s not as if you’re leaving for good,” David placated, removing his hand from Orla’s grasp and gently pushing her up. He was still weak but the aid of Erin’s determination and Dee’s, well, Dee was mainly there to make sure Erin and Orla didn’t get into a fight on their walk back home. But with the help of the three of them, soon Orla was standing and at the doorway, where hours earlier David had collapsed in front of her and James.

Orla turned round for one last kiss with James and David before Erin literally pushed her out the door. She stumbled a little from the force of it but soon she, Erin, and Dee were off towards the Quinn’s. She pulled out her phone and opened her group chat with David and James named “My Loves”. She shot a quick message in before opening another chat with her mom.

_ Hey Mammy, we’re on our way back _

**Goodness Orla why’re you out so late?**

**I had to stop Mary from sending Gerry**

**out to find you**

_ Sorry Mammy! We we’re at James and _

_ Michelle’s! _

_ *were _

**I’ll let Mary know. How was your**

**dinner with James and David?**

_ It didn’t happen. _

_ I’ll let you know more when we get back. _

_ Do you still have Daddy’s number? _

**Orla why do you want to know?**

**There shouldn’t be anything you’ve**

**done to do with him.**

_ Mammy _

_ please. _

**Contact Shared:**

**Finny Dunne**

_ Thank you Mammy <3 _

Orla’s fingers trembled as she saved Finny Dunne into her contacts. She felt determination rise in her nonetheless. She was going to avenge David. She swore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha! Wow, what a chapter!! I did some light research into the mobs in Ireland and with how the Dunne family sort of fell apart, I thought it was the perfect name to use. They were known for their drug trade but since I don't want to get into that as it's a very long and tangled web, I'm going to have the Dunne mob deal something else. Y'all'll find out soon!
> 
> I also apologize for how long this took me to get out. I wasn't expecting July to be such a busy month for me. Hopefully, in the future, it won't be such a long wait.
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on [tumblr](https://royalsampaguita.tumblr.com/)!


	3. i'll take a long time 'til it's right, 'til it's mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, love,” James murmured, his eyes tracing the lines and injuries of David’s face. “How’re you feeling?”
> 
> David was quiet before answering, “Like shit.”
> 
> James let out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back and showing off the long line of his throat.

Orla woke up the next morning in her mother’s room. She had fallen asleep there, after telling her mother what happened to David and vaguely outlining why she needed Finny’s number. Sara worried of course. Contacting the mob is not something to be done lightly and she only wanted what was best for her daughter. Still, she knew Orla was stubbornly loyal when it came to the people she loves. It was a McCool family trait it seemed. After shooing Orla out, telling her to go refresh herself and eat something before she goes back to the Mallons’, she picks up her phone and sends a message to Finny.

**Orla is going to contact you about the Donnelly wain. Don’t let it get out of hand.**

Sighing, she locks her phone and gets ready for the day. There’s not much else she can do for her daughter or her daughter’s lads besides hope this works out.

* * *

James was roused from his sleep by a notification from his phone. He rubbed his eyes and blearily looked at the screen.

**You have one message from Orla McCool Cat**

He smiled softly and opened it.

**Hey James! I’ll pop round in about an hour?**

**Missed you both! Tell davy to charge his phone**

He could tell Orla was rolling her eyes at the end of her message. In all of the excitement of yesterday, David charging his phone was not too high on the list. He turned slightly to look at where David was sleeping next to him. He looked so much younger while he was asleep. It wasn’t like they were old either but something about David looking at peace made him look like he did when they first met when they were 16. Was it really only four years that’ve gone by? James reveled in the nostalgia for a few more moments before David mumbled something, bringing him back to the present.

“What?” James asked, his voice still deep from sleep.

“Said why’re you staring at me ‘ll starry-eyed ‘n’ ev’rything,” David said, voice muffled as he brought the blanket up over his head.

James laughed and, pushing the rest of the blanket off of him, he got up. He padded over to the kitchen and started puttering around. The first thing he did was make sure to get some more medicine in David to help dull the ache in his ribs. This, however, did involve getting David off the couch and seated at the table again. James set down the medicine and a glass of water on the table and turned to face the living room. David sat there, snuggled up and warm on the couch and James regretfully straightened his shoulders, steeling himself for the puppy dog eyes he knew was going to happen. In all their time knowing each other, David was definitely not a morning person. Or rather, he liked being up but he didn’t like getting up and exposing himself to the cold morning air.

“Dave,” James started, walking to the edge of the couch. He could see David’s nose crinkle at that. David had never liked being called ‘Dave’ for whatever reason. Said it didn’t strike the right note in him whenever he heard it. When Orla proposed ‘Davy’, he had been silent for a minute, thinking it over, and agreed…so long as he could call her ‘Orls’. Orla agreed and they shook hands very dramatically, which at the time had set all of them off to where they were crying with laughter over it for no real discernible reason besides pure and genuine affection for each other. “Davy,” he tried again, this time reaching out to push some of David’s hair from his face.

Eyes still closed, David turned his head and nuzzled into the touch. It was times like this that James felt incredibly lucky to be able to experience this side of David; the side that was so vulnerable and full of trust. Often, James felt like he was the one of their relationship to wear his heart on his sleeve the most. Moments that he was able to see this side of David, where his guard was down and everything seemed softer, reminded him that David showed his affection in other ways. With a small sigh and an affectionate smile, James brought his hands to cup David’s face, rubbing his thumbs over his cheekbones gently, trying to avoid aggravating any of the injuries there. He and David stayed like that for a few moments, soaking in the stupid domesticity of it all, before David opened his eyes. His brown eyes seemed even darker somehow, being just woken up, and James delighted in it. He would often claim that David’s eyes, like most creative types, could stare into his very soul and come up with a song that would match it entirely.

“Hello, love,” James murmured, his eyes tracing the lines and injuries of David’s face. “How’re you feeling?”

David was quiet before answering, “Like shit.”

James let out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back and showing off the long line of his throat. His hands came up, hugging himself as he tried to breathe normally again. “C’mon,” he said when he finally calmed down, holding out a hand, “I’ve got some more meds for you.”

David took James’ hand and with his other, pushed aside the blanket. He stood up slowly, the pain in his ribs coming back at full force. David motioned for James to go ahead back to the kitchen and pulled the pillow to his chest, coughing a few times before following. He sat down at the table, taking the meds and water before James said, “Orla says you need to charge your phone, by the way.”

David looked confused for a moment before remembering that, yes, he did just leave his phone in his pants pocket last night before he got to sleep on the couch. “I’ll plug it in, you start on breakfast?”

James nodded and started pulling out pots and pans. He wasn’t going to get fancy with breakfast or anything, but Orla did say she’d be by in an hour and that was, he looked down at his phone, 15 minutes ago so it’s about time he started. He decided to do a simple French toast, enough for him, David, Orla, and Michelle if and when she decided to come down. He was so grateful when he opened the fridge to see berries that Auntie Deirdre had gone shopping recently for groceries.

By the time he finished plating up everything, Orla had arrived. She was sitting at the table with David, checking up on him and seeing how he was the day after everything had happened.

“Aye, that’s our David, always the rebel.” Orla’s smile was fond as she reached over to David’s face, holding it gently in her hand.

Even as David shook his head, displacing her hand, he had a smile on his face. He clearly did not mind Orla’s antics. James looked on and felt like he was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long for me to get out! The weekend I planned on didn't end up working out because of a family emergency and then classes started. I've just about gotten a handle on my schedule for this semester though so I should hopefully be posting more regularly! Anyway, as an apology for the lateness, I wrote a bunch of domestic fluff for you! I think that it's good to see David's softer side, especially around James because it's not often in media that you get to see men as vulnerable or soft. This is all the calm before the storm so to speak. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. every second seems to be the last one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Dunne Mob starts planning, David and James just want to take Orla to a nice dinner and give her the opportunity to relax.

The room was lit by several old lamps that cast a dim glow over everything. The shadows were enhanced by the blinds over the windows being pulled down. Finley “Finny” Dunne, Head of the Dunne Mob leaned on the back of his high backed leather chair sitting behind a mahogany desk. He was a handsome man, probably in his late 40s, with graying dark curly hair and piercing green eyes. He was tall, nearing 6'4, looming over the group gathered in his office. At first glance, one would assume that he was just another CEO-type man, another cog in the machine that is The Man. On a closer look, however, the faded scars and calluses told a different story, a story of a man who had fought and risked everything to get to where he is today. As Finny Dunne looked over his most trusted members, he thought of what to say to explain to these people he considered family that things have changed.

Of course, they knew on some level that Finny was different than the rest of the Dunne family, having been able to leave the country and head to America at the start of the police crackdowns on the mobs in Ireland in the early 1980s. He managed to survive under the radar, occasionally going back home in the 1990s when it was safe enough, and came back in the mid-2000s permanently with a new goal in mind. Instead of pursuing the drug trade that made the mob, he would pursue a trade of something else. He noticed just how the people most undervalued in society were treated -- America was good at pointing out the differences in people just as good as they could point out the similarities -- and he decided to do something about it. Taking inspiration from the American Black Panthers, the Dunne Mob came back strong with the idea to protect those who needed it, single mothers, children, disabled, queer. Yes, they still dabbled here and there in more...let’s call them “illicit” activities, but the majority of their time was dedicated to keeping safe those who couldn’t do it on their own. They didn’t trust the police but the police in their town sure as hell knew that they should stay away and only intervene when the Dunnes came calling.

“Right, I’ve called you all here for a reason.” Finny started, tightening his grip on the back of the chair. “As some of you know, I have a wain. One of her boys is gotten himself into some trouble. Or rather, some trouble has found him.” His grip relaxed as he continued, slipping into his role of Boss as easily as butter into a hot pan. “What do you say about finding the wee bastards and having a chat?”

A smirk slowly appeared on Finny’s face as the rest of the group stated their agreement.

* * *

“Orla, babe, I’m fine.” David gently took hold of her hands as she tried to check him over. It’s been about a month and a half since everything happened and David’s ribs were pretty much healed, Mrs. Mallon recently giving him the all-clear. He lifted Orla’s hands to his mouth and kissed the insides of each wrist in an attempt to soothe her.

She sighed in annoyance but her shoulders relaxed just the tiniest bit and she nodded. “I know, it’s just,” she trailed off, but David knew where she was going. She had told him and James, after a particularly rough night a few weeks back, that she kept seeing him collapsing in the doorway, blood on his hands and on her skirt. The nightmare ended with his death, he was sure of it, but she refused to answer him when he had asked.

He pulled her into him, looping his arms around her waist. “It’s going to be fine. We’re going out for the dinner we missed and then we’re going to the pub where I’ll play with the lads and you and James will sit and enjoy and have a few rounds. Then we’ll come back to mine or something and just hang out.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Orla said. She put her head on his shoulder, her arms coming up to circle him too.

“That’s because it is,” James said, exiting the stairs. He came up to them and gave them each a kiss on the side of their heads. He was holding all three of their coats, obviously ready to go out and have a good time tonight with his partners.

Orla was wearing a black long sleeve shirt with the Nether Regions logo on it. A key factor of the shirt that made it Orla-esque was the semi-opaque frills that stemmed from the top and fell to just after the bust. Along with that, she wore loose, striped pants with a black belt. On her feet she had low-heeled, black boots. James was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, a dark plaid button-down, and a pair of nicer sneakers. David had on what he wanted to wear the night of the attack. A dark green button-down was tucked into dark jeans and, like James, was wearing a pair of nice sneakers.

Handing out the coats, James said, “Are you excited to play with the lads again, David?” The other members of the Nether Regions, Jamie, Conor, and Michael, had stopped by at the Mallon, Quinn-McCool, and Donnelly residences a few times since That Night to check-in and, once David was able to, to rehearse. Jamie O’Neill is the lead singer of the band and one of David’s longest-had friends. The O’Neills live a few houses down from the Donnellys and the boys had become fast friends when they were younger, bonding over their shared love of music. Conor O’Carrol was the drummer and had the chaotic energy of one, every bit of him in constant motion, tapping to beats that he could “feel in his soul” as he had told the lads one night after a gig and a few drinks. Michael Connolly was their bass player and was the most energetic of them all. He’d met the rest of the band in Dennis’ shop around the same time James had come to Derry. The Nether Regions were in the process of auditioning new bass players as Conor’s older brother, Ciarán, was moving out for uni. Jamie and Conor had been complaining, mainly Conor since he had to live with Ciarán and the mess that was steadily accumulating in their house with the last minute packing and repacking to make sure he had everything, about having to find a new bass player when the ever exuberant Michael popped his round the corner and asked if he could give it a go. They agreed and here the band was, several years later and still all together.

* * *

Finnoula’s new restaurant had opened at the beginning of the year. It was fancier than her chip shop, meant more for sit-down type eating. There was a room towards the back for larger parties that David had called in a reservation for. He invited the rest of the Derry Girls, Dee, and the Nether Regions out for a celebratory dinner. James had helped him make the arrangements. They both decided not to tell Orla, wanting to surprise her instead. She had been having a rough go recently, all things considered. He and James had discussed privately how she seemed to have been taking all of it harder than David himself had. They aren’t surprised given how protective she is of her loved ones and her propensity to care deeply for them. They just hoped that being surrounded by friends and family at this dinner and then going to the pub would help reassure her that it isn’t just her and James alone in this. It is as much of a reminder that they had a huge support system as it is a time to relax and kick back with their friends.

As the hostess led him, Orla, and James to the private room where the rest of their friends were waiting, he couldn’t help but look around at the golden light coming from the lights on the walls and embrace the atmosphere around them of contentment and excitement and feel like things are looking up for the future. He has his best friends and his partners surrounding him and with them by his side, he knows that they can face anything that comes their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orla's outfit inspo was taken from actual pictures of Lousia Harland in a shoot. I do not yet have FCs for Finny, Jamie, Conor, Michael, or Ciarán but when I do, I will have a post on my tumblr for them and add them into my pinterest board for yfyr. you can find me on pinterest and tumblr under royalsampaguita!


End file.
